http://www.diva-portal.org This is the published version of a chapter published in The city of the soul: The literary making of Rome. Citation for the original published chapter: Thomasson, F. (2015) Art, nationalism and politics during occupation and Restoration Rome: “Che razza infame, quella dei leccaculi!” In: Stefano Fogelberg-Rota & Sabrina Norlander Eliasson (ed.), The city of the soul: The literary making of Rome (pp. 169-183). Rome: Svenska institutet i Rom Suecoromana. Studia Artis Historiae Instituti Romani regni Sueciae N.B. When citing this work, cite the original published chapter. Permanent link to this version: http://urn.kb.se/resolve?urn=urn:nbn:se:uu:diva-141145 Suecoromana 8 City of the soul The literary making of Rome Sabrina Norlander Eliasson and Stefano Fogelberg Rota (eds) Stockholm 2015 11 Art, nationalism and politics during occupation and Restoration Rome “O che razza infame è mai quella dei leccaculi!” Fredrik Thomasson Foreign residents and temporary visitors have always perceived Rome differently. Such discrepancies be- came especially stark after 1814 when the French occupation ended and the Papal government was restored. Travellers and artists flocked to Rome after the ending of the wars. The newcomers sometimes criticized the behaviour of the residents, or entertained wishful interpretations of their actions as though they had resisted the French regime. The predominately national histories of the foreign artistic communities often treat Rome as a place untouched by politics, a vision of the city as a haven for travellers in search of art and solace. This is an exaggeratedly Romantic view. That both international and local politics were important—and that they were becoming ever more so—is clear from the cases presented below. Fall of Napoleon News of the capture of Paris in 1814 quickly reached Rome. The Swedish sculptor Johan Niklas Byström (1783–1848), who had lived in Rome since 1810, wrote how Napoleon’s fall was celebrated in the city: To celebrate the capture of Paris the foreign community decided to hold a dinner, which took place the 21 April in the Casino in Villa Borghese—the most brilliant party I have ever attended and certainly the only one of its kind. We were 135 in number; the majority were artists, 6 to 8 English officers, the Portuguese and Austrian chargé d’affaires and several chevaliers from various nations. Toasts were proposed as canons 165165 were fired, of course first for the Pope, then for England, Russia, Prussia, Austria, Sweden and its Crown Prince etc.1 Pope Pius VII returned to Rome on 24 May 1814. The Papal States were largely reinstated during the Vienna Congress and this meant that the Pope and the clergy were once again the leaders of Rome. The public image of Restoration Rome is two-sided: there was the oppressive clergy that re-established the hierarchy and religious oppression of former days, yet this was balanced by the moderation of the Cardinal and Secretary of State, Ercole Consalvi, and other less zealous clerics.2 But the immediate consequences for the learned community in Rome were drastic. Another of the very few Swedish residents in Rome, the orientalist and classicist Johan David Åkerblad (1763–1819), was not so sure of the benefits of the return to Papal rule after the last five years of French occupation. He had lived in Rome during the French Repubblica Romana 1798–1799, and returned to Italy in 1805, remaining there until his death in Rome in 1819.3 In August 1814 Åkerblad sceptically depicted the state of learning in Rome, not only in his own disciplines: I am sure that [the scholarly] results will find fortune in this capital [Naples], and I hope that literary efforts will have better success there than in Rome where scholar and poor man are synonyms. [...] Our best min- eralogist is leaving for Naples, and the best chemist might do the same &c. &c.4 No one was sure what to expect from the new Papal government, but a few eminent scholars had already decided to leave Rome. They accepted positions in other Italian states, fearing worsening conditions and new restrictions on research and teaching in Rome. Åkerblad’s premonitions were not positive, and he continued sardonically: But praised be the heavens, our theologians remain and in this moment they preach beautiful sermons in all the piazzas. It is truly a pleasure to find oneself in Rome at such an edifying moment. It does displease me somewhat to see the arena of the Colosseum covered again after those damned French had it almost entirely dug up [...] making the via crucis more accessible.5 To facilitate the traditional Via Crucis procession the centre of the arena was filled in again, a telling metaphor for Åkerblad’s fear that the Church would stymie research into the Roman past: would the Church try to re-establish a predominately Christian antiquity (Fig. 1)? Publication virtually ceased. Åkerblad underlined the lack of serious literary activities in Rome: “I do not think there is any literary news from this country. We are making great cardinals and great sonnets to immortalize them, but as far as I know nothing else is done.”6 Åkerblad was sensitive to the changes in cultural policy and immediately noted what the return of ecclesiastical power would entail. Byström was not dependent on Roman work as he lived on foreign commissions. However, the following year Byström wrote with less enthusiasm about the return of the clergy. The opulence of the new rule shone in everybody’s eyes: Here the priests are back in all their humility with princely luxury and shiny gold and silver, prohibiting all pleasures and public entertainments and tormenting the people with their boring monotonous church ceremonies, which they call religion. 2/3 of Rome wish the French were back, and that says a lot.7 166 The Papal government’s initial policies were zealously proscriptive. The zelanti prohibited spoken theatre and the French writer Stendhal quipped that the best actor in Rome was a wooden mari- onette.8 The fall of Napoleon meant that theoretically at least there was freedom of movement after almost 25 years of war in Europe. Åkerblad was, according to an acquaintance, considering leaving Italy: “M. Akerblad talks about going to Paris, he is terribly short of funds and he does not receive any news from Sweden.”9 Another friend summed up Åkerblad’s woes in a single phrase: “Akerbland [sic] is selling all his books to survive”.10 Resistance to French rule The French occupation of Italy was a long-neglected period in modern Italian historiography. Recent decades have, however, seen a number of publications dealing with French and, as it is often called, Napoleonic policy in the expanding empire.11 Michael Broers’s study The Napoleonic Empire in Italy, 1796–1814: cultural imperialism in a European con- text? uses Edward Said’s concept of “orientalism” in the context of French attitudes and actions in occupied Italy.12 “Orientalism” is usually connected to later western colonialism and domination in the East. Broers stretches the concept and maintains that French officials in Italy were equipped with “colonial mindsets” and uses a terminology that has been adapted by western powers in more recent occupations: Nardon [a French official in Parma] came as close to using the term “hearts and minds” as the discourse of the day permitted. Nardon’s vision, and the terms in which he expressed it, is that this is of a western European talking about other western Europeans and although that vision was rich in revolutionary history, it also con- tained intimations of a later imperialism. Orientalism was at work in a wholly occidental setting.13 Broers’s book is in many respects an excellent survey of the French occupation. However, it raises the question of how and with what results recent historiography has been influenced by the theo- ries of domination and subjugation in the wake of Said’s Orientalism and the postcolonial field of studies. Broers’s exposé of how the French occupiers dealt with the Italians, which is the main theme of the book, does not easily fit into a pattern of successful domination based on an “oriental- ist” mindset—at least not in comparison with, for instance, later French extra-European colonial experiences. The time frame, in the case of Rome only five years during the turbulent late Napole- onic wars, 1809–1814, was not long enough for the French to develop adequate policies or strate- gies. The question is to what degree can the introduction of a model, designed for other times and circumstances, help us to understand the modus operandi of the French in Italy? Does adopting a variant of “orientalism” add anything to our understanding? The explanatory power appears insuf- ficient in relation to the nuances lost by comparing Italy to a colonized society outside Europe. If we agree with Broers’s use of “orientalism” we must also then agree that it has lost its specificity in relation to oriental cultures. The French occupation of Italy must rather be seen in the framework of the long and often conflictual relationship between France and various Italian states; this was not the first time France had invaded the peninsula. 167 Fig. 1. The Colosseum after the French excava- tions of 1813. The caption underlines the fact that it was filled in again in 1814: “Interno del Colosseo scavato nel 1813, e ricoperto nel 1814.” Afterwards a large cross was placed in the arena, a stark reminder of the Church’s priorities. L. Rossini, Frontespizio delle Antichità Romane, diviso in cento tavole ... Roma, 1819–1823, plate 81.